


Playing the Banjo

by Haberdasher



Series: Elsewhere Falls [3]
Category: Elsewhere University (Webcomic), Gravity Falls
Genre: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fae & Fairies, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 04:58:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14663787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haberdasher/pseuds/Haberdasher
Summary: Fiddleford tries to secure the release of his Fae-captured roommate.A sequel to The Other Backup School, though it can probably be read independently.





	Playing the Banjo

Fiddleford knew better. Really, he did.

It hadn’t taken him that long to figure out the secret of Elsewhere University, to connect the rumors to the old stories he’d heard in childhood. He knew darned well that humans weren’t the only ones prowling around on campus--and he wasn’t thinking of the crows, either, though something was probably up with them too, come to think of it.

Fiddleford knew the rules of the game well enough, too. Never tell anyone your real name. Never voice the “please”s and “thank you”s that had been practically ground into him ever since he’d learned to talk. Have iron and salt on you at all times, just in case. Put cream and sugar outside your door every once in a while as an offering, a small gesture of goodwill.

And above all else, don’t go looking for trouble.

But that had been before his roommate left one night with six fingers on each hand and came back with eight. Or rather, before something that wore his roommate’s face but got the number of fingers wrong returned to the room in Tesla’s stead.

The thing that had taken Tesla’s place was doing a pretty poor job of pretending to be a student, truth be told. It rarely put pen to paper except to fill the page with strange spiral symbols, rarely opened its mouth except to let out a shrill, high-pitched laugh that made Fiddleford’s blood run cold.

Fiddleford knew that few students remained missing through the end of the school year, that the RAs had some sort of arrangement that brought back those that had been taken in all but the most unusual cases.

Fiddleford also knew Tesla well enough to suspect that, given how unusual he was in so many other aspects, his roommate might well be one of the unusual ones in this case as well.

And meanwhile Tesla’s grades had plummeted as the thing that took his place resolutely refused to turn in anything but those strange spirals when assignments came due, and Fiddleford wasn’t doing much better himself, finding it hard to concentrate when sharing his room with a creature that often stared at him as if examining a zoo specimen and always seemed to give off a loud laugh when Fiddleford was most trying to concentrate...

Three weeks in, and Fiddleford knew he couldn’t go on like this much longer.

And so, three weeks and a day after his roommate was taken away by forces unknown and replaced with a rather poor simulacrum of the real thing, Fiddleford went to one of the dark corners of the campus that students knew to avoid, the spot where shadows fell with no visible source, and cleared his throat as he glanced down at the note card he had prepared.

“I humbly request an audience with the one who has taken my roommate, who goes by Tesla, in the hopes that I might negotiate his safe return.”

For a moment, the air was still, with no clear sign that his request had been overheard.

Then the shadows shifted, and out of them arrived something that looked like a bit like a spider, but with a few more legs and a lot more eyes. Its eyes covered its entire body, each a slightly different hue than its neighbors, creating a veritable rainbow of eyes that were all firmly fixed upon Fiddleford.

“Come with me” was all it said before turning around and walking away.

Fiddleford followed.

As he followed, the world around him grew darker and darker, until all he could see was the dimly-glowing creature guiding him and the occasional flicker of light off in the distance. This went on for some length of time--Fiddleford didn’t know how long, as there was nothing to help him regain his bearings in the pitch-black of his surroundings, and only after the fact did he think to bring a watch. Eventually, though, the darkness parted, revealing Tesla, who was splayed out on what passed for ground, and his eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving and--

Without thinking, Fiddleford rushed to his roommate’s side to check his vital signs.

Tesla had a pulse, and that alone was enough for Fiddleford to feel as though some great weight had been lifted. He was breathing, too, his breaths shallow but steady. But he didn’t move, didn’t respond to Fiddleford calling his name (or what passed for his name at Elsewhere), didn’t react at all to being jabbed in the side.

Fiddleford started to speak, though he was unsure of what exactly to say, what words could possibly address the situation in front of him--roommate gone, Taken, and now... “He’s--”

“Sleeping.” The many-eyed creature finished Fiddleford’s sentence for him.

“Did--did you do that?” The question was more direct than was polite, Fiddleford knew, but the words came out before he could think them through.

The other speaker, however, took its time before responding. “It’s easier for both of us. He needs the sleep, and he can be quite the nuisance when awake.”

Despite everything, Fiddleford had to struggle not to laugh at the creature’s statement. It was true that he’d known his roommate to be a nuisance from time to time, but Fiddleford never expected to have those feelings echoed by another, let alone by one who could say nothing but the truth.

“What do you want in exchange for him?”

The creature looked at him for one long moment before replying. “What do you have to offer?”

“I...” Fiddleford trailed off when he realized he hadn’t thought this far ahead. What did he have that was worth as much as Tesla? His own life, perhaps, but that hadn’t been the trade he was seeking out. There had to be something else, something he could give to get his roommate back, nuisance though he could be...

“You are the one known as Banjo, are you not?”

The creature’s words disrupted Fiddleford’s train of thought, but sent him reeling in an entirely new direction. Tesla had spoken of him--that was how the creature knew his safename, it had to be. But what, then, has Tesla said about him? What had his roommate decided was important enough to tell his captor?

“I am, yes.”

“Are you a musician, then?”

Fiddleford hesitated for a moment before steeling his resolve.

“Yes, I am.”

He didn’t mention that his majors were scientific rather than musical in bent, or that he could count on one hand the number of formal music lessons he’d had. He could play a handful of instruments (for a certain definition of “play”). When it came down to it, he was a musician, of a sort, and that was enough. It had to be.

“Excellent. I know what I want, then. I want your music--your music in exchange for... him.” The creature waved one limb dismissively in the general direction of Tesla.

One long, awkward moment passed in silence before Fiddleford said, “Do you have any instruments I could use? I’m not great at singin’ on my own...”

“Oh, you misunderstand.” The creature grew closer, its many eyes fixed on Fiddleford, who had to stop himself from instinctively retreating in turn. “I’m not looking for one piece of music, one performance before you return to your world. I think you’d agree that my end of the bargain is more valuable than that. No, I want all of your music, from now until the end of time. You will be a Banjo that cannot play.”

Fiddleford thought about it for a minute. Music was big in his family--his name had a musical instrument in it, for Chrissake--and giving it up entirely would be a steep price to pay. On the other hand, as far as he could see, the only alternative was going back without his roommate, coming this far only to leave Tesla behind, dooming him to whatever fate the Fair Folk had in mind for him...

No. No, that was entirely unacceptable.

“And he’ll wake up, and be himself, just like before--”

“Nobody is ever quite the same as they were before, especially after coming here.” the creature interrupted.

“Goldurnit, you know what I mean.” Fiddleford muttered under his breath, before raising his voice once again. “But it’s--it’s  _him_  there, not another replica?”

One part of the creature bobbed up and down in what Fiddleford assumed was meant to be a nod. “Your roommate for your music. That is the deal. Unless you had something else in mind...?”

“No. I’ll--I’ll do it.”

The creature extended a leg, and the gesture was familiar enough, even when the body emulating it was not. Fiddleford grasped the extended limb (he hadn’t been sure what to expect when touching it, but what he noticed most was the cold, like he was holding onto an icicle), and the two shook on their deal.

“Take him. He is yours to deal with now.” The creature walked away, though most of its eyes remained fixed on Fiddleford and Tesla.

Fiddleford picked his roommate up--had he always been that light?--and walked away, trying to retrace his footsteps.

The world faded back into view, as if a great fog was suddenly lifted, and Tesla’s eyes fluttered open.

“What’s going on?” Tesla murmured.

“Me saving your butt from a three-week nap, or whatever it was you were doin’ there, that’s what.”

Tesla blinked a few times before speaking up again. “Did you say it’s been three weeks?”

“Sure did. Did you think it was less or more?”

Tesla hesitated for a moment before responding. “...less.”

“Can you walk? Because I’d really rather not carry you all the way across campus...”

“I--I think so.”

Fiddleford set Tesla down. Tesla’s first few steps were shaky, and Fiddleford nearly went to catch him more than once before realizing that his roommate wasn’t actually about to fall, but Tesla was able to stumble his way in the direction of their dorm without much help.

“What did you give?” Tesla asked.

“Huh?”

“You got me back. What did you have to give in return?”

Fiddleford was quiet for a long moment before replying, “Nothing I couldn’t live without.”

Tesla looked at him, his eyes silently asking what his mouth had yet to voice, before simply nodding in response.

“Now c’mon, let’s get you back before it gets too dark out.”

 

Ford had thought he knew what the worst sound in the world was.

He could have sworn that the worst sound imaginable was his roommate’s loud, twangy banjo music that always seemed to start up at the most inopportune of moments.

Ford knew better now.

The real worst sound in the world, he now knew, was the long, dull silence where banjo music should have been.


End file.
